


Hidden Bride

by charmanderkitty4



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Captive, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Wallrider
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:33:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmanderkitty4/pseuds/charmanderkitty4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is based off of a mixture of what I though of after reading of some Fanfics and a beautiful picture I found on the internet, I hope you enjoy!<br/>Background: Waylon has been living in the asylum for two months, locked up in a bedroom off the side of Eddie’s workshop. He has almost given up on trying to escape, after multiple failed attempts and a few broken bones. Unknown to Waylon, Eddie is planning something special for him…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Our first Dance

Waylon wakes in a sweat. He has not had a healthy night sleep since being locked up, so he is used to the feeling. Waylon struggles to sit up, straining against the chains that attach him to the bed. His captor introduced these after Waylon fell from the second floor window of the east wing of the asylum. He said that it was for his own good, with a worried look on his face. Waylon wished more than anything that he could be free from these restraints, free from this room, free from this hell, but most of all, we wished he was free from Eddie Gluskin. Remembering his face smiling a crooked smile Waylon’s stomach turn. He likened Eddie’s feelings of worry and moments of kindness towards the Programmer to a wolf playing with a wounded rabbit. It was sick and cruel, the way Eddie would coo into his ear, talking about what a happy life they would have together. “What life?” Waylon voiced aloud as he turned the restraints on his wrists to ease the sting. He silenced his breathing, listening to the movement outside the room. He could hear the muffled singing of the tailor as he turned fabric through his machine. Waylon now knew how to sing that song by heart, as Eddie sung the same song everyday whenever there was a lull in his radio programming. It was both a source of terror and comfort to hear that he was still outside.  To face what was beyond that door alone, Waylon knew was suicide. Waylon turned his attention to the one window in the room. It was high up with rusted bars across the outside. At one point, it was a possible route of escape for Waylon, but with the addition of his bonds, it was now used as a way to tell how long he had till the monster returned. The sun was setting, taking with it all hope Waylon had of escaping that day. He watched it slip behind the walls of the Asylum, wishing it wouldn't go. A loud thud from the other room startled Waylon. It was followed by a long, slow scraping noise across the floor towards the door to Waylon’s room. The glow of a lamp grew brighter as the tailor stepped closer to the door. Waylon's breath hitched as he heard the key turning in the lock. The door opened with a terrifying creak. Waylon’s eyes grew wide as it thudded against the wall. Eddie, shouldered his was into the room, humming with a smile stretched on his face. The man was terrifyingly tall, with two broad shoulders and two huge hands. He was so tall that his head bobbed was just a few inches from the ceiling. Eddie stood for a while at the edge of the bed with his eyes downcast, whipping his hands on his handkerchief, which he promptly put back into his vest pocket. He took a long, deep breath, drinking in Waylon’s sent. His eyes searched over every inch of Waylon, slowly rising to meet his terrified gaze.  The sight of his love made Eddie’s smile grow wider and his eyes brighten.

“Darling, I’m home,” he sung, his voice rang with a dark glee. Waylon squirmed a little in the bed, but he knew that nothing could help him now. Eddie stood there, arms raised as if Waylon were mean to jump out of his binds and into his arms with joy. That his captive was to be overjoyed that his one true love had returned. Waylon instead forced the best smile he could muster, which was rather shaky and crooked.

   “Welcome home, dear” he choked out. Waylon was extremely hesitant about anything he did or said in the presence of the Groom. Eddie had a very short temper, and would explode if Waylon mad a wrong move. Thankfully, Eddie loved to get positive feedback of any kind from Waylon. The large man let out a chuckle, and carefully climbed onto the bed. He inched up the sheets, like a lion about to rip open a gazelle.  Soon, he was face to face with Waylon, staring directly at him.

“I’m so glad my darling is happy to see her fiancé home,” he lowered his voice to a whisper. His right palm left the sheets and began to move up Waylon's leg, tracing his bride’s calf through the dress and slowly inching upward. Waylon winced, disgusted at Eddie’s touch. But, somewhere is the back of his head, a voice hissed. A voice that had been with him since the first time Eddie called him “Darling”.

As Eddie inched up Waylon’s thigh, whispering sweet nothings to his bride, the voice whispered “please…don’t… stop...”      

He wanted to vomit or scream, maybe even both. He couldn't believe that part of him was actually enjoying this. What had happened to him? Noticing his bride was not paying attention, Eddie removed his left hand and placed a finger on her chin. Lifting her head so their eyes met, he tilted his head slightly and said “Darling, tell me you love me and will be mine forever?” Waylon jerked his head away from Eddie’s grip instinctively. This was a bad move on Waylon’s part. Eddie’s face twisted into that of burning rage. The Groom threw himself forward, causing Waylon’s head to smash into the cement wall behind him. One hand plastered on the cement, the other around his love’s throat, Eddie panted loudly. He leaned over Waylon, a low growl roared in his throat. There was nowhere for Waylon to run now, Eddie had him completely trapped. The programmer felt like he was about to be eaten alive. With his love shaking uncontrollably underneath him, Eddie screamed “TELL ME YOU LOVE ME!”

Waylon couldn't respond. He was dizzy from pain, fear, and lack of oxygen. He just gasped for air with his mouth open, starring up into the veins exposing themselves on Eddie’s brow. Eddie was breathing heavily, glaring into the programmer’s tear soaked eyes. Waylon wriggled between Eddie's hands, trying to get enough air to speak.

“…I…,” Waylon stuttered to speak, feeling like he was going to die, “..I…am sorry dear….I…lo…love you.”

Eddie’s face went neutral. Waylon hated when he did this, he wasn't sure if it was safe or not.  But, at this point, Waylon was slipping into unconsciousness, so in a few moments it wouldn’t matter. The hand around his throat loosened slowly, leaving purple and blue marks behind. The rough fingers moved up to Waylon’s flushed cheek, petting the soft flesh. Waylon tried to keep his eyes open, despite the urge to pass out. He began to see spots. From behind the spots, Eddie’s face had softened as he ran his fingers along the tear streaks on his bride’s face. Waylon seized up, prompting more tears to form in his eyes.

“shh, shh darling.” Eddie leaned close to Waylon’s face again, nuzzling their cheeks together. He pulled back, stopping to run his tongue along a tear falling down Waylon’s face. “It’s alright darling. I know you love me. I know you will be with me forever.” Waylon took a deep breath, letting out a whimper before going limp and giving into unconsciousness.

With his love sleeping so soundly beside him, Eddie felt his heart fill to the point of bursting. He reached out, letting his hands rest on either side of Waylon’s face. Eddie starred at his love, infatuated with every curve and line in her small figure. He found himself unconsciously drawn to Waylon, leaning into his lover’s face ever so slowly. He stopped just before their lips touched. Breathing in her sent, Eddie let out a long and guttural growl.  He wanted so badly to take his bride, to make her understand every inch of his feelings. The feelings none of the others could have ever possibly understood. But, she understood. Eddie knew that she loved him, no matter how many times he lost his temper. He chuckled to himself, falling beside Waylon in the bed. He slept deeply that night, with his arms encircling Waylon.       


	2. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, but it was all I could do. I have essays to write. please enjoy, and i will upload more as soon as possible

“I have to escape. I have to run! I am scared! Someone help!”

_Shhh shhhh._

“Please help me! I don’t want to be here anymore! It hurts!”

_Are you sure? You’re sure you don’t want to stay??_

“No please….”

_There is nothing here you want to stay for?_

“No… Please, I beg you. Just let me go.”

_Fine. Leave through there._

“Oh god, thank you”

_…Darling…_

“Who is calling me?

_…Darling…_

_DARLING!!!!!_

Once again, Waylon awakes sweaty and scared. He is still chained to the wall, not a surprise but still annoying.  He sat up in bed, unsure of the thing he just experienced. Why was Eddie in his dream? Who was that other voice?

“Shit!” he felt the pounding from the back of his head. As he moved his hand back to assess the damage, he could feel dry blood clumps in his hair. He tried pulling a few out, but gave up after pulling out a clump of his own hair. His collar had left a red ring on his skin from the way Eddie’s fingers had strangled him yesterday. He glanced up to see his face in the mirror directly across the room from him. Eddie had set it up for Waylon to try on the dresses that his captor worked on all day. Waylon looked thin and a little ragged. His hair was unkempt and greasy, stained red-brown with his own blood. Eddie had refused to let him bathe alone, and Waylon would not let Gluskin see him naked under any circumstances. Waylon’s clothes, unlike his hair, were mostly clean. A long satin nightgown, bordered by lace and little blue bows, it hung a little big on him and ran down to his knees. It had a few blood stains, but Eddie would wash it whenever it got too bad. In Eddie’s twisted mind, Waylon was an angel, and an angel had to wear almost pure white.  

Waylon’s stomach let out a loud gurgle, echoing through the small room. Waylon’s eyes fell to the end of the bed, where a plastic cafeteria tray lay. Eddie would bring Waylon three meals a day. They were usually covered in tin, and came with only a spoon. Eddie seemed to think that Waylon would try something rash if he was given a fork or knife. Waylon would never stoop so low as to end his own life. He had things to live for, things he thought about every day when he lived without them. He thought about a lot of stuff he did not have while locked up all day, one being good food. His attention returned to the plate in front of him. At first, Waylon would not eat anything Eddie brought him, because he was afraid they were poisoned or drugged. But, as time went on, hunger became something Waylon was not able to withstand.

He dragged his chains forward towards the food. He lifted the tin, and let out a sigh. It was the same as always, a sloppy grilled cheese sandwich, a glass of milk, and apple slices. The same thing he has had every afternoon since being captured. Waylon was tired of Sandwiches and milk for every meal. But, he was afraid of what Eddie would do if he tried to complain, and he was too hungry and weak to even try most of the time. He greedily wolfed down everything, except the crust on the sandwich. After a satisfying burp he wandered over to the sink. The sound of the water eased his whirling mind. Instead of washing up, he let the water fall through his fingers, admiring every wrinkle on his finger. As he turned over his left hand, his eyes set upon the metal band on his ring finger. Eddie had stolen it off one of the dead doctor’s bodies. After trying multiple others, he found this one that kind of fit. He mused about how fantastic it looked on Waylon’s slender finger. “It’s not perfect,” Eddie apologized,” but it will do until I can get you the right one.” Eddie had brought him many little things recently, almost like he was trying to court Waylon. Looking around the room, there was a pile of wilting flowers, pictures form all around the asylum, at least thirty wedding dresses in the closet, and a drawer filled with shiny little knickknacks. Waylon had to accept every one with adoration, or else. Waylon moved his wet hands up and down his arms, remembering what Eddie was capable of when he did not get the reaction he expected. Waylon felt like he was living in a terrible play written by Gluskin, and if his words differed from the scrip, he would get bruises and broken blood capsules.

It sometimes seemed as if Gluskin was two people, the Eddie who could bring him trinkets and whisper about their bright future, and the Groom who would beat him till he couldn’t speak. It was almost like Eddie might have a good side to him. As he returned to his bed, he remembered his dream. Who was Eddie in that dream? Was there really a good side to Eddie trying to tell him something?

          No, Waylon corrected himself. They was only one person, the man who cased and captured him, a man that was not to ever be tested. If Eddie was calling to Waylon, it was to bait him into his own demise. Waylon lay his head down, letting the cold water on his hands seep into the lace on his garment. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He gridded his teeth, trying hard not to letting himself break. Turning on his side, Waylon pulled the covers over himself. The small man pulled up his leg up to his stomach, and cried softly into his pillow.    


	3. A Dress Maker at Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and views. I will try to continue from here. Thanks

“Oh my dear, my honey bee. Let’s fly away with me, till the break of dawn, my sweet darling.”

The radio was playing one of Eddie’s favorites. He hummed along, eyes tracing his newest creation.

This might be the one…finally the one….

He let his hands feel every inch of the dress, from top to bottom. His fingers traced the designs on the lace straps. Moving down, he scooped his thumbs on the outside of the princess cut neck line, that would show off his darling’s collar nicely. He ran his hands along the skirt, smoothing out some wrinkles.  His darling was a particular girl, for sure. She had had issues with his other creations. She would not tell him directly, so as not to make him sad, but he noticed them. She could only handle Satin and lace fabric, she hated when it had buttons on the back, and she didn’t like itchy or too large skirts. It had taken Eddie many failed sketches and creations, but his darling was there every night to encourage him with words of love. As a smile grew on Eddie’s face, he stepped back to admire the wedding dress. It was almost done, but not quite. He turned to his work desk and retrieved the two final components. A lace chocker to go around his loves delicate neck and a satin sash with a lace outline to go around his darling’s stomach. Her slender and soft stomach. He thought about how perfect his darling’s body was, and how her wedding dress must show all watching how beautiful she is.   

“Look, darling,” he spoke to the mannequin holding the dress, “I made a wrap for you. I hope you like it.” He wrapped it around the waists of the dress, tying it into a fluffy bow in the back.

Eddie froze, standing so close to the dress, he slowly breathed in the scent of the fabric. He let his shoulders fall as his arms took the mannequin in a tight embrace. He nestled his head into his “love’s” shoulder blade. He closed his eyes and murmured into her neck.

“Darling….My Darling…I love you. I love you so much, I love you so much more than anyone could ever. I loved you since the moment I say you. I knew no one else could compare to you. You where my perfect girl, my darling.” Eddie began to breathe heavily, rubbing his face across the lace straps. “Darling…..Darling…” he moaned his love’s name, letting all his pent up feelings become words. “And you love me, right?” he raised his head so he was staring into the mannequin’s face. “You would never leave me, right?” He waited for some sort of response. The mannequin was silent.

“Darling, answer me.” Eddie was getting angry now. Why didn’t she speak? Why wouldn’t she accept his feelings? Did she hate him? Was she planning on leaving him!? She was, wasn’t she.

“AWNSER ME, YOU SLUT!” Eddie’s left hand bashed into the the mannequin’s cheek, sending it flying across the room. Eddie scowled, muscles tensing. He watched the crumpled form across the room, waiting for it to move. It did not move. His rage melted into concern, and then panic. Why wasn’t she moving?

“Oh, darling…” He rushed across the floor, cradling the mannequin in his arms. He turned it over and checked her for wounds. “I am so sorry darling. I didn’t mean to hurt you… I…I was just… I know you love me. Please tell me you are ok.” He watched the mannequin. It was lifeless and ugly, nothing like his darling.

“No…this isn’t my darling...” He took a better look at the figure in his arms. “I would never hurt my darling like this.” He stood up, placing the doll upright. He tried to get rid of some dirt and dust off the hem of the skirt. “Don’t want my darling to be dirty walking down the aisle…” He let his voice fall away. He stood there is silence. His face was worried. He loved his darling, but did he love her too much. He needed her, needed her to love him. He didn’t know what he would do if she spurned his love. What if she didn’t want to stay? Eddie clenched his chest, heart stinging within his chest. He turned his gaze to the side room door. He moved to the handle, opening it quietly.

His love was sleeping, curled into a ball underneath the sheets. Eddie stood on the right ride of the bed, watching his love’s face. He could hear her breathing, in and out quietly into her pillow. He kneeled down so that his face was parallel to hers. His hand reached out and stroked her hair. She twitched at first, but relaxed with each pet.

“You do love me, don’t you darling?” Eddie whispered, placing a hand on her sleeping face. His love nuzzled her cheek into his open palm. She let a content moan, her mouth melting into a smile.

Eddie couldn’t move. He felt like crying, but he could muster the tears. He could feel her love growing inside his heart. He leaned forward, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Darling...” he lovingly whispered. He starred into her face for a while longer, but had to leave eventually. He had to finish the dress. _Once it is done, I will finally marry her,_ Eddie though as he closed the door softly behind him.

Waylon turned in his bed, unaware of what his capture had planned for him tomorrow.


	4. Who is Waylon Park?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Waylon has another dream that really pushes him to as who he really is. Could it just be Waylon's psyche or maybe a little help from out friend the wall rider? who knows. I do. Anyway, the next chapter will be less weird, unless people like this. if you did or did not, please write me so i can have some of your input.

Waylon’s eyes opened to a blinding light. He was illuminated by the glow of a spotlight, like a ring of some twisted circus. An endless darkness surrounded him. Silence echoed around him. He was alone. Where was he? He had no clue, but he didn’t like being alone. Was this another dream? He wasn’t chained to the bed, so he must be asleep. He decided that he should try to get away from this spotlight. He reached to his knees to pull up the hem of his dress, but pulled at pants instead. He found himself in a Variant outfit, his outfit. It was blotted with dirt and covered with blood. Whose blood was it? Was it his? If not, whose was it? Waylon’s head started to throb. He walked, walked and got nowhere. He could have walked forever and remained in the same spot. Was he forgetting something? Waylon realized that he was not breathing. He opened his mouth to breath, but felt himself gag. His mouth was filled with a thick black sludge. It threatened to suffocate him. He fell to his knees, grasping his chest. Choking for air he reached out for help.

_"Oh, stop being such a drama queen Way."_ The voice came from directly behind him. A hand wrapped around his jaw, forcing his head upward, another held his chest. Who was it? Was it Eddie?! Waylon began to struggle, fighting to get free. _Relax, Relax._ The voice whispered. It was sweeter than Eddie’s. " _Take one deep breath in. Let me in, Way."_ As instructed, Waylon took a long breath in, feeling the ooze drip down his throat into his stomach. He sputtered and coughed, tears running down his face. " _There",_ the hands released Waylon,"  _that wasn't so bad was it?"_

“Like hell, I almost fucking died!” Waylon took a second to realize that he could talk, that he could breathe. The hands grab him by his sides and yank him upward. They steadied him until he could stand, and dusted him off. When he could stand on his own, Waylon turned to the owner of the voice. A man appeared before Waylon, arms crossed. He was the same size as Waylon with ear length brown hair. His leather jacket and jeans were stained with what looked like black ink. His eyes stared into Waylon’s soul, as if judging him.  The man moved around Waylon, eyeing him. As he circled, his began emitting a black smoke. His figure began to warp. He became taller and his edges became sharper. He appeared to be wearing a suit and his hair became slicked. The blackness engulfed the man. He stopped before Waylon and spoke.   

_"Mr. Waylon Park."_ The figures voice had changed. The voice made Waylon’s stomach twist. The man’s voice had a dark, sarcastically sharp tone. Waylon recognized this as the same voice that started all of his troubles, the voice that locked him away. The darkness dissipated, giving way to the form of a man Waylon recognized. It was undoubtedly Jeremy Blaire, that fucking bastard.  Blaire walked towards Waylon at an alarming speed, forcing Waylon to scramble backwards. Blaire’s face turned up as he spoke to Waylon. "  _Age 28. Consulting Contract 8208 for the Murkoff Cooperation._ _Employee 1466, until you were incarcerated on insanity charges at Mount Massive Asylum."_ The name dripped from Blaire’s tongue like snake venom. _"I know this much about you Mr. Park."_ Waylon hit an invisible wall. Blaire’s arms slammed against the wall on either side of Park’s head. " _So…this is what you are?"_ Blaire grasped at Waylon’s jumper. _"You are an insane patient, a psycho?"_ Blaire held Waylon’s collar in his left fist twisting his head as he questioned. A sickening smile grew across his face.  " _Are you, Mr. Park?"_ Blood dripped from Blaire’s hand. _"Are you a murderer?_  "

“No!” Waylon shrieked, shoving at Blaire and knocking him backwards. “I am not a psycho!”  Waylon felt rage boil in his throat. He clenched his fists, frightened but angry. “I am not one of those crazy people. I am not insane. I am not a murderer!” his voice grew louder with each sentence. Blaire looked surprised, and slightly disappointed. He released Waylon, and moved a few steps back.

_"Really?"_ Blaire hissed, turned, and retreated into the shadows. All was quiet. Waylon stood, finding that the invisible wall was gone from behind him. Suddenly, a horrible crunching noise echoed through the dark space. Bones twisted, broke, and reformed. Screams filled the air, screams that numbered in the hundreds.  Waylon’s rage quickly melted into terror. Then, as if silenced by a maestro, all was quiet again. When the figure stepped back into the light it was no longer Blaire, but Trager. Clade in only a butcher’s apron, he sauntered forward. Trager had a cloth in one hand and a blade in the other. He let out a guttural laugh, sending a shiver up Waylon’s spine. " _Well, isn't this just a case of mistaken identity?"_ He wiped blood from his knife, throwing the cloth into the darkness.  His face became serious suddenly. " _Then are you really that Bullshit priest’s savior?_   _You look like him."_ Trager pointed at Waylon with the knife. Grabbing hold of the cloth, Waylon stared down at a golden cross. He was dressed like Father Martin, robes and all. Trager lunged at him, knocking him on his back. Waylon felt the freeze of the blade on his neck before he realized the danger. Trager’s breath steamed up the reflection of Waylon’s terror streaked face in his glasses. Waylon let out a shrieked. " _He really did confuse you with his ‘holier than thou’ crap, huh?_ _Is that who you are? A bullshit disciple?!"_ He pushed the knife into Waylon’s skin, drawing blood. He used the palm of his hand to slowly cut into his veins.  

“No!” Waylon screamed at the pain. The pressure on the knife ceased. Waylon looked up at Trager, to see him confused.

_"No? No. of course not."_ The knife moved from Waylon’s neck. Trager got up, and adjusted his apron. Starring at Waylon one last time, he mumbled angrily as he stormed off into the darkness. " _Of course it isn't that simple!"_  In Trager’s rage, the doctor let his knife fly out of his hands, to a few paces away from Waylon. The mumbling continued as the sounds stared again. It was changing again. Waylon scrambled to his feet, lunging for the weapon. Grasping the handle, he aimed to put it into Martin’s robe sleeves. But, looking down, he was naked. His head spun. Who would be next? Not knowing what to do, Waylon got into a defensive stance and pointed the knife where Trager had left the light. When the noises stopped, a voice came from behind him.  

_"Waylon Park…"_ He could not tell who spoke to him now. No one appeared. " _Who are you now?_ _You don’t think you can go back to before the Asylum, do you? Waylon, you cannot go back."_

Waylon, turned towards the voice.  Naked, alone, and with only a knife, Waylon had never felt so exposed in his entire life. He head split, shaking his consciousness into a thousand pieces. What am I? Who am I?! Waylon didn't know. He just wanted everything to go away. Waylon’s legs gave out. He crashed to the floor, sobbing heavily.  

_"Do you still want to leave?  You don’t really think you will be safe out, there do you? Do you want to be alone again? Do you plan on abandoning me too?"_ The deep voice seemed sad, almost on the verge of tears. Waylon felt his heart clench, making the knife in his hands shake more.

“No…” he did not yell it this time, he spoke softly. “No…I…I just want to…” Waylon wept. He didn't know what he wanted. 

_"Of course not, darling. You would never betray me."_ Waylon’s blood froze. Eddie’s large figure stepped forth from the shadows. His arms open, the Groom smiled a sad grim. Waylon had no words as Eddie slowly strode towards him. As his capture got closer, Waylon jabbed the knife at Eddie, warning him to stay away. Eddie stood before Waylon, staring into his eyes. Waylon felt cold, he had no strength left.

_"Its ok darling. I know… It’s alright."_ Eddie leaned down. His left hand wrapped around the serrated edge of the knife, grasping it tight. Waylon’s turned white as he watched a line of blood trickle down Eddie’s ring finger.

_"Shuush…shhhhhh_ …" Eddie took his other hand and caressed Waylon’s cheek. The knife clattered to the floor. Waylon broke down, openly weeping in front of the man that tried to kill him. Eddie’s large hands encircled Waylon’s waist, pulling the sobbing man into his chest. Eddie’s head rested in Waylon’s neck. Waylon felt warm, almost safe. Eddie pulled back from Waylon’s neck, whipping away tears with his thumb. Waylon Park stared up at Eddie’s deformed face. His eyes were worn out, but gentle.

_"I will love you forever, darling. Please, smile for me."_ Eddie smiled, melting Waylon’s sadness and doubt. Waylon sniffled, but managed a smile. " _Is this who you are?_  " Eddie’s face went blank, his eyes became white. He stood, looming over Waylon. Black smoke began to seep from every pour in the groom’s body. Eddie began to rise off the floor, as smoke encircled him. He began to float away, leaving Waylon alone again. The sounds started again louder than ever before.  

“Wait!” Waylon reached out to Eddie. Gluskin stopped, and turned. It was no longer Eddie, but a thing of pure blackness. Only the face was visible amiss the smoke.

_"Is this who you really are?"_ The voice was very distant. The darkness began to eat everything and Waylon began to coke on the blackness. " _That dress looks quite fetching on you, Waylon."_

Waylon gasped for air. The light of the moon leaked in through the window of his tiny room. Waylon could see the white trim of his wedding dress in the dim light. He could also see the pinstripe lines of Eddie’s pants. He could feel Eddie’s weight against his body, his arms wrapped around his chest. The feeling the man’s breathing against his stomach made Waylon sigh. Waylon cuddled back into his bed, and had the first night of peaceful sleep he had in years.  

 


	5. Chapter 5; Nothing Good Can Come of This.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry about the wait. i have been really busy this last year with moving and jink. but now I'm back! thanks everyone for your support, and enjoy.

Something was off the next day. When Waylon opened his eyes again, Gluskin was gone. Eddie had a habit for waking Waylon with a kiss before skulking off to work, but Waylon shrugged it off, thinking that he had just forgotten. Waylon did not hear from Eddie until lunch time. No words were exchanged, no eye contact, Eddie just dropping the food on the bed and left the room. Waylon sat stunned, eating was the last thing on his mind. Had he done something wrong yesterday, he wondered. He had never seen Eddie so silent, it was unnerving for the programmer to not know what was going on. This silence worried him more than any of Eddie’s past tantrums.

Waylon decided to eat, knowing he would need all of his strength to combat whatever Eddie was up to. He reached for the tin, but let in fall from his fingers, clattering onto the floor. He mouth hung open in terror as he noticed that on his left hand where a red mark circled from where the ring had been forced onto his finger, there was no ring. His mind went blank for a moment, unsure of what to do. Just one action screamed through his body “ Find the ring!” Waylon trembled as he scoured the bed, thinking it fell off during the night. It did no. Maybe it was somewhere in the room? He looked high and low, but no luck. That only meant one thing, Waylon thought as he slipped back onto the bed, Eddie had taken it back, Waylon grasped at his pillow, pulling it to his stomach and clenching it. What did it mean, taking back the ring? Did it mean Eddie had gotten bored or given up on Waylon? Did he not need Waylon anymore? Was he safe? Tears painted the bed sheets as Waylon gasped, his anxiety burning in his chest. Even with everything that had happened, Waylon could always find some safety in knowing that Eddie wouldn't kill him because he was “his bride.” But what now, now that the ring was gone? Waylon’s breath began to catch, hyperventilating into his pillow case.

_Stay calm Waylon._ The voice from Waylon’s nightmares rattled in his skull. The voice that threatened to finally break his sanity. _Are you just going to sit there and wait for him to kill you? That's not the Waylon I know…_ Heeding the voice, Waylon frantically searched the room for a weapon, a escape route, anything. The window was hopeless, he had tried too many times to escape but it required a key, which was lost when the asylum was overrun with its inhabitants. The only other option was the door, so Waylon pooled all of his energy to making his escape. His restraints twisted into his flesh as he struggled towards the door. He collapsed a few inches from it, pressing his ear against the wood. There was no radio playing, no singing, just the sickening sounds of Eddie at work, the snips of scissors and the prick of cloth had never sounded so menacing. Hurry up Waylon, the voice hissed, your running out of time. Turning, Waylon could see the sun was half way below the horizon, meaning he had only minuets until Eddie was upon him. There was nothing he could do. He was trapped. Doomed. Waylon crawled like a wounded animal back to his covers. He had hidden some small scraps of paper and a pen in his pillow for documenting his days as the Groom’s prisoner. He had plans to sell his story to the paper when he escaped. Now, it would hold his last will and testaments.

“To whoever finds this journal…” Waylon sobbed as he spoke, wishing more than anything that he could be home. He decided early into his capture who of his friends and family would take his belonging. It was a morbid though at the time, but Waylon was glad he had his affairs in order.

He thought about his family, his friends back home, his shitty job as a programmer, and how much he would miss all of them.

* * *

 

Eddie Gluskin stood in the semi-lite of his workshop, hunched over his craftsman table, inspecting his final creation. His mind was racing with possibilities, how he could do it. He had done it a thousand times before, but this time was special. This time it was his darling, what to do, he though. What to say? He had never been so excited in his life, his heart pounded like a drum in his massive chest. He look out the window, wishing that the sun would set faster. He couldn't wait to surprise his darling. He washed his face in the sink, inspecting his face in the mirror. “What a hideous face” he could hear the voices say within the mirror.. “Who could ever love a face like that...” He hurled his shaving kit at it, shattering it into shards, cursing those who scorned him. He stood, panting and enraged before his image, rage building in his stomach.

_Ah ah Gluskin, not a very becoming look for the Groom, now is that?_ Eddie slowed his breath, trying to calm himself. _We don't want to scare the little lady, now do we?_ The voice seemed to come from his very soul, but Eddie had always followed it, ever since he first came to the asylum. It had helped him escape his torture, it also helped him find his darling. “ Of course not. My darling loves me, so she could never be frightened of me. She loves me….she will always love me...she loves me…she will always love me….” He murmured like a spell under his breath as he straightened his tie. That's right, now let's make sure she loves you forever, the voice whispered into Eddies deformed ear. The last ray of light dropped into darkness, and Eddie Gluskin steeled his nerves and grabbed his items. _It's show time….._


	6. Chapter 6: Showtime!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a stressful few hours, Waylon retreated to his happy place. But is he prepared to deal with Eddie Gluskin?

"...Darling.... are you awake?" Waylon stifled a scream as Glusken's sickly sweet whispers rumbled through the darkness of his room. After running out of tears to shed for himself, Waylon had taken refuge underneath his sheets. Like a child, he held out hope that the boogeyman couldn't hurt him if he was underneath his blanket shield. But Eddie Gluskin was not a fictional monster, Waylon had seen first hand the horrors his Groom could create. The bodies mutilated, hung from the ceiling, tortured until they bent to his will, their pleading cries before the saw worked its magic, images clouded Waylon's eyes now. He was doomed. Where was Guluskin? It was pitch black in the room, and Waylon was too afraid to look over the brim of his sheets. A loud clank, a metal monstrosity landed on his bedside table. He could hear his captors breath now, so heavy and labored. A flash of light as the bedside lamp sprung to life, casting a horrific shadow of the monstrous Groom across Waylon's sheets. Even in the shadows, Waylon could see Gluskin's wolf like smile as he neared his chained Darling. But, instead of pulling away the sheets or attacking Waylon like he expected, Eddie slunk to the foot of the bed. The sounds from the foot of the bed grew louder and increased. Was he setting up a special ritual for his beloved whore? Waylon heard the sounds of scraping a mannequin from the door and the rolling of wheels. To Waylon, the wheels where a match to the saw he was almost acquainted with when he had his first run in with Eddie. Waylon wanted to scream out, but his throat was painfully dry. He felt the restraints more than ever now, as his body screamed at him to run. There is no where to run now, Waylon dear.. the voice relaxed his straining muscles, making Waylon feel numb. So he sat there, shivering and praying for release while the Groom got to work. 

It was too quiet for Gluskin's liking. He was on edge as it was, but to see his love hiding beneath her sheets made him suspect the worst. Did she already know? Was she afraid of what was to come next? "How was your day, my love?" Gluskin asked to clear the air, setting up his things. When Waylon did not reply, he thought that his bride must know what he had planned, and was nervous. " That’s alright Darling, my day was long too. I had a lot of time to think today... about us. About everything we have been through and what to do about our future." It sounded like he was talking to himself again, and he felt the burn of his anger growing behind his cheeks. **No**! His Temper was not going to ruin today, he told himself over and over as he worked. He burnt his finger a bit, but it was worth it for making tonight special. He put his hand into his pocket, grasping hold of his treasure. He was ready, turning to stand above his sweet Darling. Her shyness at his presence just made her even cuter, which Eddie thought was impossible. 

"Darling, time to stop playing. Come out." His voice was terrifyingly kind. Waylon willed his muscles to hold on, grasping the sheet like armor." Darling, if you don’t come out, I will have to come in there and get you," Eddie's voice snarled slightly at the end, showing Waylon that he was not in a mood to play around. Waylon, fearing the thought of Eddie joining him in th e bed, slowly lowered the sheet. At the foot of his bed stood a sight that froze his blood. Eddie Gluskin loomed before him, bathed in the light of hundreds of candles. His deformed face accented by the glow of the fire, his eyes had never seemed so dark. His mouth twisted into a crooked smile, musing out a " there you are," at the truly terrified programmer. Next to Eddie, on a ragged mannequin, draped a Wedding dress. Each stitch bursting with Eddie's insane mind and sick obsession. It dropped down to the floor, each layer of lace caused Waylon's skin to crawl more. It will look beautiful on you, the voice in Waylons mind whispered. Truly a perfect outfit for your funeral. "Darling, I have been holding back my feeling around you, as it is ungentlemanly for a man to act in such ways towards his love." Gluskin folded his left arm across his massive chest, trying his best to imitate a gentleman. It only emphasized to Waylon how unhuman Eddie Gluskin was. His large body, scarred and disgusting. His speech, out of place and stitched together from his radio shows. His love, which was nothing more than his need for domination and affirmations. He was a monster in a scrapped together human façade, trying to fulfill its own dark nature. " But no longer, Darling. We can finally end all of this.” The gruesome Groom reached into his pocket, arching his shoulders, ready to pounce on Waylon. The scared programmer’s thoughts echoed it's over... Eddie lunged onto the bed with a massive thud! Waylon closed his eyes, trying to protect his face with his hands, and screamed! Waylon waited, but no sharp knife pierced his skin, no pain shot through him, no blood pooled into his clothes, nothing. He opened his eyes slowly, a blurry Eddie outstretched his arm across the bed to Waylon. His eyes rested upon a ring grasped between Eddie's fingers. It was his ring, but Eddie had taken a large silver button and sewed it around like a diamond. It glimmered in the light, and in its own way, it was beautiful.

"I know it's not Tiffany Darling.." Eddie spoke quietly, almost as if he was trying to calm his bride, "but it comes from my heart." Waylon looked up at the man offering him a ring. His face seemed worn and gentle in the lamplight. His smile was broken out of nerves rather than anger, and in that moment Waylon realized that Eddie Gluskin was more afraid of him than he was. Afraid of his answer, which he waited for nervously. Waylon look from the make-shift ring to Eddie, saying nothing for an instant. He had no words. Then he could hear the voice in his head echo an answer.

_I do..._

"I do..." Waylon let slip from his lips. He didn’t know if it was the voice’s influence or his own decision, but he had no time to debate because Eddie threw his arms around him, knocking both of them down. He let out an inaudible half cry half sob, burying his face in Waylons collar. His grasp was so tight, Waylon began to lose oxygen, but Eddie didn’t care. His large frame shook with each ragged breath, it felt like he could fall apart at any second. After what seemed like a lifetime of cuddling and crying, Eddie pulled back and stared at his bride. " I knew you would say yes! I love you, my Darling." With that, Eddie Guluskin pulled Waylon Park into a strong, deep kiss. Waylon's eyes stayed open in surprise, watching the muscles in Eddie's face melt into ecstasy. The kiss made Waylon’s mind go fuzzy and confused. For just a moment, he forget where he was. It was pure emotion, and Waylon let it pull him into Eddie's insane fantasy. They held each other, letting the insanity grow warmer. They kissed for a long moment, until Eddie pulled back in surprise.

"Oh!," He exclaimed to the slightly dazed Waylon, " I almost forgot! I finished your dress darling!" He hurried off the bed and pushed the stand close to the lamp. Waylon's half lidded eyes looked over the dress once more, noticing how much work had been done on it. " I did the boning and lace work myself!" Eddie stood with his arms on his hips, pride flowing from him at his masterpiece, waiting for Waylon’s approval. 

"Its..its beautiful.." was all that Waylon could manage, he was emotionally drained from the events of that evening and still a bit confused. Eddie could tell that his bride was overcome with everything, so he calmed his excited heart and held his brides hands. 

“ I'm glad you enjoy it, Darling. Now, you don't have to fret about anything. I have everything planned out. I had decided to have dinner with you after you awnser and take a picture together," motioning to the serving cart with food, and the large metal camera on the bed side table, "but for now we can relax. Tomorrow you can get washed up and try it on ok?” He smiled at Waylon, excited to begin their new life together. Waylon let a sleepy smile cross his face, but said nothing. “Sleep now darling, we have so much to do tomorrow.” Eddie leaned forward and gave his fiancè a kiss on the forehead. He gathered himself, blew out the candle’s, then stopped inside the doorway. Looking back Waylon he chirped “ now that I found you, I will never let you go!” 

The door closed and Waylon stared at the far wall. What had just happened? He though he was going to die, but now he was engaged. He fell back on his pillow, trying to fight off his tiredness as he tried to process everything. Eddie’s works rolled around in his mind, he spoke them out loud.

“Now that I found you, I will never let you go…”

“ I found you….I will never let you go…”

“I will never let you go...”

Waylon’s eyes sprung open, as his body jumped off the bed. **_Never let you go…_** the voice chuckled. _What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into now, Waylon Park?_

“I don’t know...” Waylon whispered worriedly. “I don't know…” 


	7. A Very Important Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the bride having said "I do," Eddie Gluskin has his work cut out for him planning a wedding. While Waylon still needs to figure out what to do next.

Eddie Gluskin’s workshop was a far cry from a tailor’s dream, in fact it was the exact opposite. It was moldy, dusty, dark (save a hanging light bulb and some candles), and it resided in the basement of a former asylum. Once filled with medical equipment and spare parts for the Morphogenic Engine, Eddie stumbled upon his future workspace while searching for one of his whores who had gotten away. Once he had disposed of her properly he returned to the basement to explore, because despite his size Eddie was a very curious child. He found many interesting things; some old monitors, a bunch of wire, a broken manikin, but two things really caught his eye. Under a pile of boxes he found a rather large circular blade laying atop a wooden hand cart (which he would put to good use later), and under a white tarp he unearthed a large wooden table. It was crude, with cuts and markets all over it, but Eddie thought it was perfect. After he had secured his darling in her “suite” he found more time to declutter the room and create his new home. He stole needles from the infirmary (creating an rather tense understanding with the house doctor), scissors from the front desk, thread he found in the craft room, but the hardest thing to find was cloth. He was limited, since he could not risk leaving his darling alone too long (or other boys might come sniffing after her) and she was too weak to escape with him. So he made due with uniforms he found around the asylum, bits of blankets, and other random fabrics. But, as time wore on and Eddie finished his space, he wondered if leaving Mount Massive was really a good next move for the new couple. As he continued to work, He realized he could make this into their home. Food, water, a doctor, everything was manageable since Eddie got rid of some of the other boys. In fact, he found one of the scoundrels trying to get into the basement one day on his run to gather things. He had lost his temper, and the vile beast was unrecognizable once Eddie stoped seeing red. But, He had served his purpose, he had a rather nice necklace on, which Eddie presented to his shy bride.

“Bride…” Eddie mused aloud, holding his handmade placemats to his chest. Yesterday, She had calmed all his worries about the future with two simple words. “I do…” he sighed breathlessly. She was so adorable, such a sweet girl. A woman just like mom told his to find. 

“ _Now now, old chap. Don't over excite yourself. You still have to prepare for the dinner.”_ The voice whispered to Eddie, pulling him from his state of nirvana.

  
“Oh, your right. It must be perfect for my pearl.” Eddie reminded himself, placing the silver-wear upon the sickly yellow napkins from the cafeteria. Stepping back a bit, Eddie admired the work that had taken him all day. His workers bench had been cleared of his recent projects and failures, wiped down, and covered with a plastic white sheet. It wasn't a true table cloth, but it matched the plates and the vase as a center piece. Daisy's were arranged within the vase, recently picked by Eddie from the yard, and were perfectly illuminated by the candles that were peppered around his workspace.

The only thing that made Eddie unhappy were the chairs, which were not the same. His was a red leather chair with wheels he retrieved from the front desk, while hers was a simple white chair he had embroidered with pink string and a small pillow for her to rest on. 

“ _Well well, not bad. This is half was presentable. Now all it needs is a pretty little doll.”_ The voice cooed to Eddie, lifting his spirits.

  
“Yes! She is probably still asleep, my sweet darling. I will wake her for dinner.” So Eddie set off, grabbing a single daisy to put into his breast pocket, before going to wake his sleeping beauty.

* * *

  
Waylon had been awake for hours, having suffered from a confusing and awful nightmare. In the nightmare he was standing in a kitchen, one that resembled the 50’s style in his grandmother’s house. He was dressed in a white dress, covered in black polkadots, with high heels, and sporting a black apron. He could smell something in the oven, but was unable to move from his spot to see what it was. He was petrified, hypnotically cleaning the same plate in the sink over and over again. Waylon struggled to move, but found it useless. Than that voice, the one that had spoken to him many times before, slithered in from every corner of the house.

  
“ _You do make a quite nice housewife Waylon. It's almost like you were born for this, huh?”_ A laugh filled the air, getting louder and adding more voices with every second. Soon it was like an audience was watching Waylon struggle, enjoying every moment of his terror. They were silenced by a doorbell, which seemed to snap him from his hypnotic state. Waylon heard the ring again, than the sound of breath directly behind him. _“Hubby’s home, darling,”_ The voice whispered. Waylon’s legs moved against his will, moving through the halls of the house till he stood before the front door. He caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror next to the door, but he couldn't recognize the person staring back at him. They had longer hair, they were thinner, but they had the same eyes as he had, the same face (albeit covered in thick makeup). But, much to Waylon's chagrin, the person in the mirror reached out and grasped the door handle. No… waylon begged, but the door swung open. There, before him stood the imposing form of the Groom, a large smile plastered on his scarred face. He was wearing a full suit, and his eyes were hidden beneath a dark hat. He was as scary as every, standing menacingly before Waylon, breathing heavily as if waiting for something. But, behind him a large cloud of black smoke rose up into the air and consumed everything behind him.

  
“Darling…..” Gluskin sung menacingly “I'm home.”

  
Waylon had shaken himself awake, sweating and crying. He had been up since, curled up at the head of his bed, holding his knees into his chest. His mind had been a mess in hours since he realized he had signed his own death warrant with Gluskin. He was more afraid than every, remembering for a fleeting second what he witnessed in his days of running from the groom. The thing he did to the people he claimed to love, in the name of fixing them. It made Waylon’s stomach clench and his mouth go dry. Every once and a while he would raise his head to watch the sun fall from the sky, dreading what kind of act he would have to put on for his captor when it set.

  
“Oh god.” Waylon mumbled into his knees, drained of energy and tired. But he didn't have long to ponder if God still cared for him, cause just after he muttered the words a rather loud knock sounded from his prison door.

  
“Darling? Are you awake?” Waylon’s head jerked up, staring at the door. His throats was too dry to swallow, but he attempted to anyway. “Darling?” Gluskin wanted an answer, and if he didn't get one soon he would not be happy.

  
“Y…yes? I am up.” Waylon managed to choke out.

  
“Oh good! I'm coming in, so I hope you are presentable!” Eddie’s voice almost sung the last few words, as he fiddled with the door lock. Waylon hurriedly straightened himself up, wiping his tear stained cheeks and smoothing down his oily hair to appear normal. What is normal at this point, Waylon though to himself, before Eddie’s head bobbed through the door frame. Something was different about him tonight. Eddie always tried to dress professionally, but he was never truly clean. His hair always had a few strands falling out of place or a smudge of ink on his hands, something to remind anyone looking at him that he was not what he appeared to be. But tonight every hair was in place, his hands were clean, he even had a flower in his vest. It was a bit unsettling to Waylon, because it meant that Eddie expected something important to happen tonight. Waylon gave Eddie the nicest smile he could make and said “don't you look….nice.” Eddie’s face seemed to glow with pride after his words, his smile almost a copy of the nightmare Waylon had.

  
“Thank you! And as always you look ravishing, darling.” Waylon could feel Eddie eyeing him up and down, like a piece of meat. Waylon crossed his arms across his chest to keep the crawling of his skin from being to obvious. Eddie seemed to notice thought, hurrying over to sit be Waylon’s side. “Oh darling, are you cold? Here.” He draped Waylon’s shoulder with a thin curtain that Eddie had made into a shawl for his bride, which Waylon had put next to his bed. It was a kind gesture, but it barely calmed Waylon’s nerves.

  
But Eddie didn't see the worry in Waylon’s face, he only saw how wonderful his bride looked in the moonlight. Her hair seemed to shine, her eyes seemed to sparkle, and her skin seemed to glow. He wondered, for a moment, if she would glow this brightly when she was with child. When her eyes met his, he was shaken for a moment. Her slightly rosy lips parted and asked “what's the occasion?” He couldn't answer for a moment, lost in her presence, but finally pulled himself from her long enough to say “why…why of course dear, I promised you a dinner yesterday. And I am a man of my words.” He held out his left hand to her, while his right pulled out a key from his pocket. She hesitated to give him her arm, but lay her delicate hand on his arm. He studied her arm for a moment, amazed by her, before unlocking her wrists from the cuffs. A red hue wrapped around her writs where the cuffs usually lay, like a ruby bracelet. Eddie lifted her trebling hand to his mouth, planting many small kisses on the places where her veins met the red band. Through his lips, he could feel her heart beat, a fast but soft sound, like bird’s wings. He pulled back slowly, restraining himself from grasping her into a proper kiss. Such sudden actions were certain to frighten her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do tonight. “ we should hurry, dinner will get cold.”

* * *

  
Dinner was different tonight as well, a bowl of Campbell's alphabet soup with some crackers and a cup of red wine. “I got it from the church” Eddie mentioned, raising his glass to Waylon. Waylon barely registered his words, staring at his writs. He was Free. He was unchained, not confined to the room, he could run!

  
“ _That won't do you any good, dear. You wouldn't make it far in your state, and Gluskin will not treat you kindly for ruining his dinner.”_ The voice was right, as usual. He was free, but only in a small sense. For now, he had to deal with the monster at the end of the table.

  
“Darling?” Eddie asked a bit louder, not catching his bride’s attention the last few times he called to her.

  
“Oh! Yes?” Waylon focused hard on Eddie, who sat a good few feet from him at the other end of the table.

  
“I was proposing a toast.” Eddie sounded a bit uneasy, which made Waylon’s heart skip a beat. “Unless you would prefer not to…”

  
“NO!” Waylon said with a bit to much volume. “I mean no. I would love to toast.” Waylon raised the plastic cup full of dark liquid. “What should we toast?” His voice almost broke at the end, finding nothing in his current situation worth being toasting.

  
“Why us of course darling!” Eddie proclaimed loudly, his free hand hitting the table with a bit too much force. “ To our meeting, to our time together, and to our wedding!” With each word, Eddie became more excited. The day of his wedding couldn't be any sooner if he wished it.

  
“Wedding…” Waylon’s voice trailed off. He knew he agreed to be the Groom’s bride, but he didn't think he would have to worry about the wedding so soon. Or what would happen afterward…

  
“Yes darling! I planed to have it here, tomorrow around sun set. That way the lighting from the windows can frame you just right!” Eddie motioned to the three small windows that sat near the ceiling of the basement. They were useless as a mean of escape, but their light was just enough that Eddie could use them to work.

  
_This is bad. No, it's worse than bad, it's ghastly._ Waylon lamented into his wine. _Waylon park is to be married tomorrow to a psycho murderer, who is obsessed with having the perfect bride (which Waylon isn't biologically). And it will happen in this damn basement. Basement….basement…..wait!_ Waylon mustered his sweetest voice and purred“Eddie darling? I really appreciate all the effort you’ve put into planning this, but there is a slight problem.” Waylon hoped that his plan would work, and wouldn't cause his demented host to lose it.

  
Eddie was taken aback by her words. His bride had found a problem in his plan? _What was wrong? Did she want to do a morning wedding? Did she not like her dress after all, but was too shy to say anything? What? What!?_ “ My darling,” Eddie asked, fighting back both his fear and his anger, “what ever could be the problem.” Unknown to him, he had wrapped his left hand around his dinner knife, and was gripping it rather hard.

  
Waylon kept an eye on this and he meekly answered, “oh well, you see…if I am to married, my love, it needs to be in a church.” He saw his words confuse his jailer, so he hurried to explain. “ because my parents raised me as a child of God, and I learned that only before god can a couple truly be legally married.” Waylon held his breath, hoping that his lies would delay his wedding until he could escape. But, to his fear, Eddie seemed to stare blankly at the soup before him, as if looking for his future in the broth. They both sat there for far to long, silently, before Eddie pounded his fists on the table and exclaimed “OF COURSE!” His reaction almost knocked Waylon from his chair.

  
“How silly of me. A wedding isn't a true wedding without a chapel!” Eddie felt relived that this was his brides only obstacle, since it was such an easy job to ratify. “Lucky for us darling, our little community here has a church, with a minister who I can talk to tomorrow!” His words were like an Epiphany to himself, like all the pieces had finally fallen into place for him. Waylon was rendered speechless. He had completely forgotten about the crazy preacher and his church. Instead of giving him at least a week, his plan had given him an extra day. Waylon slumped into his seat, defeated. Eddie was drinking happily and explaining how he would spruce up the chapel for a proper weeding, but all Waylon could think about was how he was doomed.

  
“ oh darling,” Eddie jumped from his chair and ran to Waylon’s side, getting down on a knee. He grasped his brides hands in his own, looking up into her face. “ we will be so happy together.” After breathing in this moment, Eddie stretched up to meet his loves face, happily getting lost in her eyes. Before Waylon could react, Eddie has cupped his face with one of his hands and pulled their faces together. Their kiss was hot, wet, and full of feelings. Love, fear, devotion, confusion, but most of all a burning feeling that held both their hearts. Eddie’s beat with anticipation and love, while Waylon’s heart filled with hesitation and a fire. A fire that begged this moment to last a bit longer but also screamed at him to pull away.  
When Eddie released from his loves lips, he was left breathless. Her eyes were still closed, her breath small and uneven. I want you…eddies mind rang, his hand moved almost as if guided by someone else to her thigh. Her eyes opened with a start when his fingers ghosted along her inner thigh. But he stoped just before the hem of her dress, which had pooled along her upper thigh. His eyes fixed on her stomach, with a face that slowly twisted from love to disgust. Waylon’s eyes watched, horrified, holding his breath when Eddie murmured “we will need to fix you….”

  
Eddie disliked that his love was born, like many of his other crushes, with a disfigurement that kept her from being the mother he knew she could be. But he knew that she could be fixed, he had done it before (with not real success), but she was different. She truly loved him, which made her stronger than the others. He would make sure nothing bad happened to her. But in this moment, he just wanted to ease her nerves. “Hush dear, you don't need to worry about such things until after the wedding. Do not be afraid.” He lifted himself up to hold his bride, to make her feel safe once again in his arms. Waylon did feel a bit better, surprising. The way Gluskin held him reminded him that as long as Eddie wanted to marry him, he would keep Waylon alive. He still had time to escape with all his parts.

* * *

  
At the end of the night, once dinner was over, Waylon lay down once again in chains. Eddie sat with him, silently watching him as Waylon pretend to be asleep. He would sigh every once and a while, and brush a hair from Waylon’s ears, but he wouldn't leave. Eventually, Waylon stoped pretending and actually feel asleep, leaving Eddie to watch the soft lift and fall of his lover’s chest as she slept. He turned to the window for a moment, thanking god he had finally found his love.

  
But, he attention was drawn back to her as she tossed restlessly in her sleep. In the moonlight, Eddie watched in awe as her slip opened ever so slightly on the chest, showing a hint of the pale flesh beneath. Eddie let out a shaky breath, trying with little to no effort to look away from the seductive collar bone of his love. Just the sound of her breath, the smell of her hair, and the slightest bit of her skin drove him crazy. It was almost too much to bare for him, since he had waited so long to be with her. With shaky hand, Eddie reached toward her chest, feeling beads of sweat roll down the back of his neck as he suddenly became very hot. His fingers hooked into the sides of her button-down top, threatening to pull the lot apart with as much force as he had in him. He stayed there for a second, breathing heavily over his innocent bride. _Just Do it…please…a little more. I can't take this. I need you, I want to feel you, to feel safe with you, he_ begged himself, slowly trying to unbutton the next button in her pink night gown.

  
“ _Stop right there!” The mysterious voice yelled from his mind, freezing his hands. “Your bride is a lady, Eddie Gluskin, and this is no way to treat a lady.”_ With his head cleared, Eddie was momentarily horrified at his actions, covering his bride before letting his head drop into his hands. Pathetic. Your are worse than those wolves upstairs, trying to take advantage of her while she sleeps. You are unworthy of someone like her. Eddie felt tears welling in his eyes as he berated himself for his perverted thoughts and actions. But a soft sigh from his love stopped his tears. Her slight smile while she slept reassured him that she loved him. And the cozy feeling she gave him made him remember that she was his forever.  
“It's fine.” Eddie whispered as he quietly got up and closed the door behind him. As he locked the door again he murmured to himself “once we are married, I will have all the time in the world to have her.” He returned to his work, cleaning up his workplace like that day many months ago, when he first brought his love to her new home.

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *


	8. Chapter 8; The Mysterious Voice Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's pretty close to Waylon's wedding day, and it's about time our mystery character takes the stage. You know, the one who has been talking to Waylon in his sleep and steering Eddie? Yeah that guy. Things are about to get a bit more fun, and a lot more interesting.   
> (P.s if you ship Waylon and Eddie, the end of this chapter has some sweet stuff for you! Chalk it up to hormones and chocolate!)   
> Anyway, enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note for those who might get confused (cause I got confused while writing this), the man speaks in italics with quotations. Every other instance of italics is a internal though of a character.   
> Hope this helped, enjoy!

_“Waylon~”_

_“Waylon park~”_

  
Waylon struggled to open his eye lids, which hung heavy with groggy sleep. _Someone was calling him. Someone familiar. But who?_

  
_“Waylon darling~ it's time to get up. You can't sleep late on your special day!”_

  
A flash of sunlight from his jailed window nearly blinded Waylon, so he pulled the covers over his head to fight off the day. He was not ready or willing to deal with anything at the moment, much less something that called him”darling.”

  
“Mmmmmhhhhh. Go away…,” he mumbled his protests, not for a moment thinking of what consequences there would be if the person calling him was his psychotic keeper.

  
_“Now now, that's no way for a bride to act on her wedding day is it?_ ”

  
Waylon’s heart started with a painful jolt. He lay under his covers, feeling a panic attack rage through him. _Wedding day…no….it couldn't be._ Not yet, not now. Now fully awake, Waylon breathed heavily while his mind raced. His window for escape was almost unreachable now. His fate was almost sealed, and than there would be no escaping the transformation Eddie had in store for him.

  
_“We both know there's no use in trying to run now, Waylon.”_ Waylon could tell that the voice was close, and held his breath when the sound of bed springs near his feet and a sudden pressure signaled someone had just sat on the foot of his bed. Waylon quickly pulled his feet into his stomach, which prompted a dark chuckled from the unknown thing at the end of his bed. _“But, it is rather cute to watch your squirm.”_ The person on the end of the bed continued, while Waylon hid under his sheets. “ _It's a shame really, that you've gotten to this point and you still want to flee. I mean, I gave you so many chances to escape, and you simply ended up back here each time. Like the instance your chains magically coming undone..”_ Waylon remembered the morning he awoke to find his hands and arms free from the chains. How he had gotten out of the basement and made it all the way to the lobby, but something had stopped him long enough for Eddie to catch up to him. _“Or even earlier than that, when I pushed all those lockers onto The Groom to give you a head start.”_ Once, before Waylon’s capture, there had been a supernatural instance where a bunch of lockers had seemed to come to life and piled on top of Eddie. Waylon's got pretty far than too, but was too afraid to make a break from the exit, and ended up being chased again by the demonic Groom. _“I even asked you straight to your face! I asked who you were!”_ The dream came rushing back into Waylon’s mind, the mysterious voice asking him who he was. That's who was talking to him now, the person who had been in his head ever since that one night in his entrapment. The voice that whispered to him, the voice that was always right.

_  
“but now I know who you are Waylon. I know exactly why you are here..”_ Silence…a silence that seemed to kill Waylon with every lingering second.

  
“Who.” Waylon asked, still safe under his covers. No one answered. “Who!” He called again, growing terrified and angry with still no response. Finally he pulled back his covers and sat up in one swift movement, screaming “WHO!!” Than immediately regretted his decision.

  
_“My pawn.”_ Growled the man at the end of his bed, a very dangerous looking man indeed.

The man was a mess, only made more horrible by the way he looked, only half illuminated in the dark room by the rising sun. His clothes were torn, charred, and full of holes, but a strange black vapor seemed to leak from the tears. In fact, his whole body seemed to be leaking this black mist, which began filling the corners of the room. The man’s face was thin and pale, and seemed to be rotting. He seemed to be covered in darkness, save his eyes which burned like a mirrored fire. His yellow, jagged toothed smile shook Waylon to the core. The man’s skeletal fingers clenched the blankets between them, maintaining eye contact with the now petrified Waylon. _“When I first saw you, Mr. Park, I though of you as nothing more than another ant running around my home like a playground. Something to overlook. But, as I watched you overcome every obstacle put before you, every hardship you encountered, I became very interested in you._ ” The man hefted himself up on his knees (with much difficulty), and posed like a hungry animal stalking his pray. As he continued in his raspy and unnerving voice, he slowly edged closer to Waylon on the bed.

  
_“what I mean is that I've been looking for a new suit for a while now. Something a little more durable. As you can see, mine is not holding together very well.”_ The man touched his hand to his face, and slowly dragged his fingers along his jaw, pulling skin from the flesh of his face with a puff of black smoke. Waylon let out a silent cry, too terrified to move.

  
“ _I know, he’s not the dashing gentleman he used to be. Which is why I've been watching you. Well, you and Mr. Gluskin. I need something I can wear out of here,”_ he gestured to the walls of the Asylum just outside Waylon’s window, _“ and well, I don't think I will make it to town before tirning into a pile of rotting flesh.”_ He was so close to Waylon now that he could feel the man’s hot breath against his face, and smell the rotting smell that exhumed from his pores. He studied Waylon’s face for just an instant, than like before rested his hand against Waylon’s cheek. Nothing happened, which prompted a very wide smile from the man. _“See what I mean! You are stronger than anyone else I've come across, besides Gluskin. But he is rather unstable. I tried to take him, but being in him is like riding a wild bull. He was able to throw me because he had enough faculties to fight for his life. Unlike Miles here,”_ the man patted his chest, which seemed to cave in just slightly,” _a good chap, but not strong enough to hold my essence. He has taught me a lot though. Reading his mind let me see what the outside world is truly like, and I want to see it for myself. I want to watch it burn for myself.”_ He bared his teeth menacingly, spilling black sludge from his lips. His hand, still resting on Waylon’s face clinched down on his neck suddenly. Waylon gasped for air, a strange kind of fear filling him. This was different than when Eddie hurt him. Eddie usally stopped, there was a strange guarantee that Eddie would let up. But there was no certainty that this Miles would stop. Waylon prayed at his throats with his fingers, struggling to get free. But the man kept his eyes solidly on Waylon and didn't let up.  Finally, he let Waylon slip through his fingers. _“Of course, I wasn't going to kill you. I need you. Or more honesty I need your body.”_ He eyed the now gasping Waylon up and down, examining him like a fine piece of meat. But, Waylon still had some fire in him.

  
“You…*cough*… you’re insane.” Waylon fought back.

  
“ _Not insane my dear Waylon, just a pragmatist. A pragmatist who has been leading you to your true destiny!”_

  
“Destiny?” Waylon gathered himself and slumped against the headboard. He was not pleased with the direction this man was leading him.

  
“ _Well, I have a plan A and a plan B, because I know that it's better to have a backup just in case.”_ The man held up one of his battered hands and stuck up one gnarled finger. “ _Plan A is you marry the behemoth, and I take you before you die from his crazy surgery. I'll survive it for sure, seeing as how I've watched him do it many times. Than I lead him and myself out of this damned place and start causing havoc.and if that doesn't work…”_ he held up a second finger, but this one has the tip cut off, “ _Plan B. If I cant get to you in time or you don't go through with the ceremony, I simply take over Eddie. By my thinking, we will be so emotionally destroyed that he will be easy to meld with! Really this situation is a win-win for me either way.”_

  
“It will never work.” Waylon squeaks out, still very much terrified but also putting his priorities in order. He decides that the evilness of this man trumps Eddie’s crazy love, so for now his goal should be dealing with the monster at the foot of his bed. But this comment makes the man frown in an exaggerated fashion.

  
“ _Oh and why not? Are you going to stop me? In this state?”_ He grabs one of Waylon’s arms and pulls it into the light. Waylon sees what he means, his arm in thinner than usual and much more delicate in the light than he remembers. Even when he tries to pull his arm free, it is like a kitten playing tug of war with a full grown Rottweiler. He is out of shape and too weak to take him on alone. But what is he got Eddie’s help? _“That won't work either poppet,”_ the man responds to Waylon mind, “ _the groom doesn't know I exist, and I am always watching either him or you. So, your pretty much trapped Waylon. And it's All. Your. Fault.”_ The man pokes Waylon in the chest as he enunciates the last few words. He lets out a loud laugh over the now throughly distraught Waylon, that is until a loud thud at the door makes them both jolt. The eye guard on the door flips open, and two eyes peer at the scene in Waylon's room. Another loud bang echoes inside the chamber as something pounds on the door hard. A demonic growl slides into the room from outside, chilling Waylon’s blood.

  
“ **GET AWAY FROM MY DARLING!!!”**

  
The door flys open with a crash as an enraged Eddie Gluskin bursts into the room. His face bright red, veins bludgeons from his neck, he looks at the place where an unknown man was just sitting on his darling’s bed. But he is not there. He seems to have vanished into thin air. But Eddie can't believe in that, and someone needs to take the rage he feels right now. He begins tearing up the room, looking under the bed, hunting through the bathroom, even checking behind the door, all while screaming at his bride.

  
**“Where is he?”**

  
“What?” Waylon crouches in the corner of his bed, watching horrified as the manic Groom tears everything apart. But this was not the answer Eddie wanted. He turns his blood rage filled eyes upon the small man in the bed.

  
**“Where is that swine. That disgusting mutt! The man you let into your room!!!”** Unable to control himself, Eddie lunges at his bride, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her violently. **“WHERE IS HE, YOU SLUT!!!”** Waylon unthinkingly screams suddenly, frightening Eddie, and slips free from his grasp. The Groom kneels before him on the bed, shaking with rage and mumbling sinisterly under his panting breath. **“You little slut…..how long has this been going on…..what has he done to you….what did you let him do to you…”** Scared and noble to think, Waylon bursts into tears. Sobbing loudly, curled into a small ball, he finally lets go of all the fear, worry, and other emotions he was bottling up inside him into salty tears that wet his clothes. The sight of him crying and wailing halts Eddie for just a moment, allowing him to breath more clearly. Waylon, who is still dealing with the encounter just a second ago, the terrifying scene Eddie had just caused, and knowing that he couldn't tell Eddie about the man without either getting killed or not being believed, simply wept loudly into his knees.

  
“I…I don't know….!” He coughed out between sobs, unsure how to answer Eddie. But Waylon’s weeping had extinguished Eddie's rage. He finally recognized that if there was no way into the cell but the door, and he had not seen the man leaving the door, than maybe there was not man after all. But now he had thoroughly scared his bride, so much that she was bawling before him. He took stock of that fact that he had just barged into her room and aggressively laid hands on her, and his anger turned to nervous sadness.

  
“Oh darling...” He murmured in a soft voice, reaching out to hold her. But she shivered at his open arms, as if she was expecting to be hurt by him again. This hurt Eddie, to think that she no longer trusted him and now might even feared him. The thought made his mind race and his heart sink in his chest. _What if she didn't love him anymore. What if she wanted the wedding to be canceled? What if he was the one who had ruined everything he had worked for up until now._ His shoulders sank, his palms lay open on the bed spread, and he felt tears welling behind his eyes. His head dropped, to hide his emotions from his bride’s face. He knew he had failed hopelessly, and the knowledge of his failure had finally broken his spirit. “I'm..I'm sorry darling.” He let out a small breath, hyperventilating ever so slightly as a knot caught in his throat. _Its over…I ruined everything._

  
Waylon’s sobs had lessened, and he finally picked his head up from between his knees. He stared at the man before him, the once most terrifying man he had even encountered, crying silently. He saw the defeat in Eddie’s face, something he knew all to well, and the way his frame seemed less intimidating when he shivered with sadness. The man before him was not the Groom who had just swept in like a hurricane and recked his room. This man was Eddie Gluskin, the man who had made him dresses, fed him, and generally tried to keep him alive and well for the past few months. Waylon felt a sliver of pity for him, seeing Eddie a shell of the man he once ran from. Without thinking, Waylon rested his right hand on the palm of Eddie’s closets open hand. It was a warm gesture of sympathy, which caused Eddie to raise his sunken head to meet Waylon’s eyes.   
“It's ok.” Waylon found himself saying, unsure in his own words but for some reason feeling the need to be kind. “I understand.” Waylon was telling the truth, in some ways. He had felt that kind of soul-breaking sadness before, when he couldn't escape, and empathized with the feeling in Eddie’s empty and water filled eyes. “I…I’m ok.”

  
Eddie Gluskin looked up at the face of his bride as one would look at the face of an angel. Her words and the touch of her warm hand moved his heart. She wasn't afraid for him, even after losing his temper and causing a mess, she understood him. Above all odds, even though he should have ruined everything she still cared for him.

  
“Darling!” Eddie leaped forward and buried his face in his love’s stomach. His arms encircled her as he wept into her, crying tears of joy instead of sadness. Waylon as momentarily surprised, but eventually began petting the man’s hair as he cried. It was a soft gesture, one that Waylon had gotten many a time when he cried into his mothers’s dress or on his friend’s shoulder, but one that made the whole situation less awkward for him. After a good twenty minutes of crying, Eddie finally slowly lifted his head from Waylon’s stomach. He was a mess, hair crazy and wet, cheeks stained red from his tears, and swollen eyes. He hiccuped slightly than spoke.

  
“Darling. I'm so sorry for my actions. I never should have suspected you of being with another man. Please forgive me?” Waylon , not knowing how he would react if he refused (probably violently) placed his palm on Eddie’s cheek. He was heartened by the fact that it didn't change when he rubbed it against Eddie’s skin, unlike Mile’s reveal. It made Eddie feel safe.

  
“Of course. I forgive you.” Waylon spoke in a kind voice, seeing the venerability in Eddie’s eyes. He seemed like a small child in that moment, which calmed Waylon down. Eddie gave him a weak smile before wrapping his arms around Waylon’s shoulders and burying his face in Waylon’s collar.

  
“Thank you.” He murmured into Waylon’s skin, sending a strange shiver through Waylon’s system. Something warm pooled in Waylon’s cheeks as Eddie breathed softly onto his neck, and something squirmed in his stomach when Eddie pulled back to stare at Waylon’s face. When Eddie’s hand cupped Waylon’s he could feel a slight burning in his face and on the tips of his ears. The two stared at each other for a few moments, taking in a silent comfort in each other’s presence. Than, ever so slightly so as not to spook his bride, Eddie tilted his head and leaned in a bit. Just enough so that their noses touched and their eyes were locked. Eddie held himself there, unwilling to move until he knew Waylon felt safe. Waylon felt a bubbly kind of haze fill his mind, and he slowly clinched his eyes shut and moved just and inch forward. With this, Eddie closed his eyes too and gingerly pressed his lips to his bride’s. The kiss tasted sweet, with a hint of sadness, and had a feeling of mutual understanding that was passed between the two. Just as Waylon was relaxing into the feelings rolling through him, he felt Eddie’s mouth open slightly and his tongue slowly slide across his lips. Surprised, Waylon opened his eyes to find Eddie staring at him, with eyes begging him to reciprocate. Sheepishly, Waylon cracked open his lips and left himself at the mercy of Eddie. Eddie's kiss became deep and passionate, pulling Waylon’s tongue into his mouth as he pulled Waylon closer to his chest. Waylon followed where Eddie’s tongue went, gasping slightly when Eddie’s hand crept up to run through Waylon’s hair. When Eddie finally pulled back, he saw he had made Waylon into a panting, blushing mess in his arms. God you are so beautiful…I'm so glad you’re mine…I want you…I need you...Eddie’s heart screamed, prompting Eddie’s lips to ghost over Waylon’s and leave little kisses down his neck. Waylon’s mind was static at this point, but he felt a shock of electricity as Eddie’s lips left a trail of kisses down his neck . Finally, unable to hold back, Eddie bit down on Waylon’s neck, prompting a loud moan from Waylon. Eddie sucked on the bruise, leaving a hickey on Waylon’s neck. Waylon said his name, which came out as more of a moan than a statement. Eddie pressed his thumb against it and said in a low voice “you belong to me.” Waylon felt a simultaneous jolt of fear and what he guessed to be arousal. His head wasn't thinking straight. Eddie could feel the heat in his body spreading, pleading to be satisfied. He wanted to so badly, but he remembered his attack of his bride last night, and restrained himself as much as he could. This showed itself and him pushing Waylon away from him and mumbling “I must go, finish preparing, I'm sorry,” before bolting out the now broken door.

* * *

  
Waylon sat there in a haze for a bit, a mixture of heat and sleep clouding his mind. Finally, he just slumped back onto his pillow and stared at the ceiling. What just happened? He ran back the scene that had transpired in his head, stopping when heat started to fill his body once more, he buried his face in his pillow, ignoring certain things and feeling that swelled when he though too hard about what had just transpired. After some time trying to calm down, he eventually though about Wha the man had said before Eddie stormed in. About his plans. Such a character was also a part of Waylon’s story, and was just another obstacle between Waylon and freedom. He looked at the broken door, but he still couldn't run since his hands were bound to the wall behind him. Waylon he let out a short sigh of relief when he realized that the wedding would not occur today, but it would definitely happen tomorrow. He desperately tried to fall asleep, all the while hearing the voice of the man saying _“too little, too late Waylon.”_

* * *

  
Meanwhile, in the other room, Eddie Gluskin was propping himself up by his elbows and leaning against his worker’s bench. A lot had happened in the last few moments, a lot that made him very sad, but more that made him very happy. He had felt the fire just than, the passion that burned not only in him but in his bride. She had taken his breath away, and awakened some things within him. Now, besides being irregularly hot and sweaty, he was determined to make their wedding a reality. He felt comfort in the fact that his bride still loved him, and that he hadn't ruined everything for himself. He vowed to go and fix up the church tomorrow. But first, he had to take care of a pressing and uncomfortable matter brought on by their little escapade, before even thinking of seeing the priest. 

* * *

 

Somewhere, surrounded by darkness, the man who used to be Miles smiles. " _Everything is falling into place..."_ He murmurs to himself as he follows the many halls that twits themselves through Mount Massive Asylum. He stops as a plack before a door, covered in bloody hand prints. The plack reads "The Chaple.", and as he admires it a figure steps out from behind the large wooden doors of the cathedral. _"It is almost time, Father."_

"Indeed it is, my lord. I am only here to do your work." 


	9. Chapter Nine: Preparing for The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Day is finally here!!!  
> Everyone is getting their plans in order for Eddie and Waylon's big day! But, will Waylon finally escape from the asylum or will he be doomed to have a date with Eddie's Circular Saw?  
> Find out next time! and stay tuned. this may be one of the last three chapters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I apologize to anyone who has trouble reading my works because the text is close together. Every time I copy my work and paste it to the AO3 website, it gets rid of the double spacing, and I can't get it back! sorry... I don't like it either.

Father Martin had seen many strange, disturbing, and even marvelous sights since the asylum he called his home fell into glorious chaos.  He had seen burning men dancing in the courtyards, blood flowing like streams though the halls, and other such occurrences a normal person would swear came from an Orwellian nightmare. But the sight of Eddie Gluskin joyously prancing around his chapel, decorating it with white table clothes and paper doilies, made him stare in wonder. His heart had almost stopped when the massive man burst through his chapel doors in the middle of morning mass, seeming totally unfazed by the bloody rituals the congregation were preforming, and loudly proclaimed that a wedding would take place in the chapel tonight as the sun set. Father Martin knew better that to contradict a man like The Groom, but watching him now, he seemed like a completely different man than the monster who once stalked the halls of the early mayhem in the asylum. His stature was the same intimidating height, but he moved around the pews as if he was waltzing on air. His normally dark eyes were lit up like candles and a smile stretched across his mangled face. He sung as he worked, sometimes stopping to hum out the tune as he readied the chapel for the evening.

“I want a girl…just like the girl…who married dear old dad!” He belted out as he placed flowers of many kinds along the pews leading up to the alter. They were dirty, some were almost dead, but Eddie treated them as if they were priceless roses. He bound a clump of them together at the altar, a very sorry attempt at a bouquet. Father Martin wondered where one could find a good bouquet in an asylum, unless the bride wanted to walk down the aisle with a clump of broken sporks tied together with a napkin the one Eddie threw together would have to do. Despite the silent judgement from Father Martin, the quality of the flowers didn’t bother Eddie at all. His head was so far up in the clouds, he wouldn’t have noticed if someone set him on fire. He just kept singing and arranging flowers for his wedding, dreamily imagining his bride in her gown standing before him as she said her vows. “I have looked all over, but no girly can I find. Who seemed to be…  just like the little girl…” he paused for a moment as he held a daisy cupped in his palms. He seemed mesmerized by it, as if his darling sat nestled in his grasp, “…I have in mind.” Eddie gingerly traced his finger along its petal, imagining the yellow of his love’s hair. How wonderful it would look against her dress. How the creamy color of her skin would shine as she stood at the altar. And how her cheeks would redden, ever so slightly, when he proclaimed his love for her before God himself. His mind whirled with images, making him giddy and slightly light headed.

“Ehem.” Eddie was surprised by Father Martin, who had come down the aisle to speak with him.

“Ah! Yes Father?” Eddie’s tone was cheerful, but there was a slight edge to his tone. Father Martin could tell that Eddie was working, and did not like to be interrupted. So, Father Martin decided not to mince words and try to take the edge off.

“Mr. Gluskin. May I first congratulate you on your imminent wedding.”  This brightened Eddie’s mood up right away. He smiled openly and clapped the priest on the shoulder hard. Martin struggled to stay standing as Eddie’s chest swelled in pride.

“Why thank you Father Martin! We sure appreciate you letting us decorate your church,” Eddie surveyed his hard work from his cleaning job to the petals leading from the doors to the alter, “my little bride said she wouldn’t feel right getting married unless it was done proper.” Father Martin thought of the last time he had seen Gluskin’s bride. Waylon Park lay on the floor of the entrance the last time they spoke, a thin thing with a tenacious spirit and a string will to live. No wonder god chose him to be his apostle. But now, his god had spoken to him in broken spurts of wisdom. All Father Martin knew was that Waylon Park and Eddie Gluskin were very important players in his God’s plan, so it was his task to make sure they stayed as happy as possible. “Yep!” Eddie started Father Martin from his pondering. “My little darling is a particular woman, but she is the girl I’ve been waiting for my whole life.” Eddie looked off into the distance, his face had a look that Father Martin could have mistaken for content. But as fast as his face changed, it changed back. “Oh my, what am I doing! I don’t have time to chit chat Father. I’ve got so much more to do to make this night as perfect as my darling!” Without a second thought, he bounded down the steps of the podium and began rifling through a box of colored fabrics. Father Martin just watched him, unsure if he was driven by insanity or love. But, before he could think more about it, something caught his eye. A rather mangled arm poked through the church’s side doors, motioning Father Martin to come outside. Father Martins heart l, and he called out “I will be right back” to Eddie as he rushed through the doors.

“Father Martin.” The shadowed visage of his God stood before him, leaning against a wall at the end of the hallway. His body was engulfed in black smacked that oozed from every inch of him. Not even his face was visible in the cloud, but his voice echoed from it down the hall to Martin. “I assume the preparations are going as we discussed?”

“Ah…yes! Yes, they are, my lord.” Martin instinctively bowed to him. “I gathered the items you requested and I’ve been watching over the Groom. He is completely engrossed with the wedding.”

“Hmmm.” The God pondered his plans over in his mind. “How is his mental state?”

“He seems…almost gone, my lord.” This seemed to catch the smoky man’s interest. “Yes. He is off in another world most of the time, singing to himself and drifting off to his own little world whenever anything reminds him of your apostle.”

“Apostle.” The Wall rider let out a loud and sickening laugh. “I guess he is, isn’t he?” He pushed away from the wall, and stood across from Father Martin. “Just keep things going Martin.”

“Yes! My Lord!” Martin disappeared through the church doors with a smile on his face. As soon as the door swung closed, Mile’s body stepped out of the cloud of black smoke. He took the moment to survey his condition once more. His rotting had increased since yesterday, with the last bits of flesh on his left arms finally falling away. Now his left arm was nothing more than bones, and his legs were so delicate that a breeze could have brought him to his knees. He had no idea how much longer this form would last, but it would only have to last to tonight. Cause, at the end of today, he would either walk out of here with Gluskin at his side or he would walk out as Gluskin. He smiled slightly as he went to secretly went to spy on the Groom’s dance of madness. As he passed along the hallway, his hand dragged along a wall. It left a black trail as it brushed along, slowly degrading the wall itself as it sunk into the wall deeper and deeper.

 

* * *

 

Waylon’s hands wouldn’t stop violently shaking. He was completely drenched in cold bullets of sweat, and his spastic breathing continually hitched in his chest. All the color had drained from him, making him even more ghostly in his wedding gown. Sitting at the end of his bed, he cradled his head in his hands, wide eyes scanning the floor for answers. But none had come to him for hours, and he was on the verge of passing out from anxiety and fear.

_I’m dead. This is it for Waylon Park. The last chapter in my life before I become another failed surgery!_   The visions of his front row seat to the procedure haunted his every waking moment. The screams of the other men, their pleas for mercy, the sound of their boned being cut away by the saw, and the dull sound of their bodies hitting the floor as Eddie dragged them off somewhere. But the worst was when they went silent. When they stopped crying and screaming, Waylon’s stomach dropped. No one had survived Eddie’s surgery, and Waylon dreaded the time he would become silent like the rest.

Waylon didn’t know what to do. His options were completely exhausted. He couldn’t escape, he couldn’t hide, he couldn’t do anything accept wait for the Groom to return and gather him to the chapel. Waylon wished he could have said goodbye to his mother one last time or maybe have hugged his friends one more time. Tears dripped from his cheeks to the cold ground of his cell, slowly at first but building into a stream as he spiraled into depression and fear. He cried so hard he began hiccuping, lamenting over the things he wished we could do before he faced the circular saw. His cries were heard by no one, and he continued for an hour.

When he was all cried out, he lifted his head out his hands. In the bathroom mirror he could see that, through his fingers, he looked a fright. Pale, swollen eyes, red splotches peppering his face. He was no prize-winning beauty. **_Shit! Shit! Shit!_** Eddie would be enraged if Waylon walked towards him looking like this. He hurried into the bathroom, having been freed from his chains by Eddie earlier to prepare for the wedding. Cold water took care of the redness of his face, but his swollen eyes would take time. Defeated and tired, Waylon drunk lazily from the sink. But, the image of the circular saw cutting into a screaming man crossed his consciousness, and his stomach had had enough. He let go, painfully and grossly, into the sink. It was so forceful that it knocked Waylon off his feet, sending him toppling towards the sink. Waylon braced himself as his forearms crashed through the bathroom mirror and bounced painfully off the sink. Shards of glass followed Waylon to the floor and spread across the cold linoleum tiles. Dizzy and reeling from the pain, Waylon lay on the bathroom floor. It was a while till Waylon could get himself to sit up and see how bad it was. His knees were still wobbly, there was a cut on his right hand that was bleeding bad, and a rather large bruise on his left arm from the corner of the sink. He cursed under his breath how weak he had gotten. Before, a tumble like this wouldn’t even faze him but now, it kept him sitting on the bathroom floor. He tried to rest his left palm on the floor, but only felt glad so he pulled back his hand. The floor was covered in different sized shards, some fine like sand and others as big as Waylon’s hand. Waylon stared at the large piece, a very dark thought whispered in his head. He watched, as if someone else was in control of his body, as he picked up the large piece and held it in his hand. It was so sharp…. the thought became louder in his head. _Just end it._ Waylon held the shard firmly in his left hand, and before he knew it he was holding it to his throat. He was shaking, so scared. He stayed like this for a good while, not pushing forward but also not putting the glass down. _Just end it!_ The voice was louder. It was his voice. Scared and tired of waiting for it. _This way, I don’t have to be Mile’s pawn. I don’t have to be Eddie’s bride. I can go out on my terms! But Waylon didn’t move. Please! JUST DO IT!!!_

Waylon dropped the shard, unable to take his own life. He tried to cry, but his tears were dried. He wept softly as he unconsciously began to pick up the shards of broken glass and place them in a small rag. He guessed he would try and do something, since he felt so helpless. He hated feeling this way. Being trapped, but also being unable to take the easy way out. He hated it. He hated everything. No, he really hated Eddie. Eddie was the reason he was in this mess, about to die, unsure of who he was. This was all Eddie’s fault. It was all the Groom’s fault.

But, as Waylon continued to hate things and pick up shards of glass, he felt something. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. A fire in his belly. An anger that needed to be let out.  A beast clawing at his rib cage to be set free or to have justice be done. But how? That’s when Waylon noticed that the smaller glass shards he had collected in the rag made a very sharp group together, about the size of his palm. He held the rag from the sides and mimicked thrusting the clump of glass shards into something. That’s when an idea came to him. At the ceremony, there wouldn’t be many people (since no one they knew besides Father Martin and maybe Trager), and he wouldn’t be chained up or confined to the basement anymore. He would only be a few paces from the entrance, which he knew Eddie would have cleared so he could go get the flowers outside the asylum for the ceremony. If Waylon could stun Eddie long enough for him to get a head start, he could make it to the front gate before Eddie even left the chapel. He could escape. 

Just then, a knock came from the cell door. Waylon hastily closed the rag of glass in his left palm, and called out, “yes?”

“Are you ready yet?” The voice wasn’t Eddie’s. Waylon’s heart skipped a beat. If it was Miles, he would see right through his plan. Waylon slowly got up and walked out of the bathroom to face the cell door.

He hesitated before saying, “come in.” The door wasn’t opened by Miles, but Trager. He had come to escort Waylon to the chapel, since Eddie believed it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. What he didn’t know was the bride was going to be back luck all on his own. As Trager walked Waylon through the halls of the asylum, Waylon felt something he hadn’t for a long time. He felt like he had hope.


End file.
